Song For The Dumped
by sandiwandi
Summary: It's just not a good day for the both of them. DMHG


**Title: **Song For The Dumped  
**Author/Artist: **sandiwandi  
**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J K Rowling. No profit is being made.  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings: **strong language and suggested sex scene  
**Notes:** OKAY. This story is inspired by the Ben Folds Five song, Song For The Dumped. Thanks to my beta, **applecede** for putting up with me and doing a job which exceeded a whole lotta expectations. To **derryere** for being there almost everyday to amuse and inspire me to write. Baby momma loves you H plz! **marredclarity** for inputs and the rest of my f-list who never tire of my whining.

This is written for the **dmhgficexchange**'s Brew A Love Potion For Draco and Hermione, for **mandyjg**.

**Summary:** "Give me my money back, you bitch."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm really sorry…I have to uh, fetch my mother."

And there it went again. The old mother line. Never failed, really. Hermione sighed and picked up her purse from the table. "It's fine, I have to go do something anyway."

The man visibly relaxed and stood up from his chair. "Thanks, Hermione. I knew you'd understand. I wish we could-"

She shook her head and laughed dryly. "Save it. It was nice meeting you Mark."

Mark was slightly put off but was too dense to fully get it. "I'll call you some time," he said unconvincingly.

She was already heading for the door.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Soooo…how did it go?"

She placed the phone receiver near her mouth and yelled, "I am never going to go out on a date with someone you recommend, Ron Weasley!"

"What? It didn't go well?" Ron's voice sounded incredulous over the line.

"Go figure, Ron!" She paced back and forth in her apartment. "I have never met anyone so conceited, so dense-he was checking his face out with his spoon! What the hell were you thinking when you thought we would be good together? Were you thinking _at all_?"

"Uuh, see…he…"

Not yet satisfied with her rant, Hermione went on. "And he said he'd call me some time. The nerve! I'd rather spend my time playing house with Malfoy than go out with him!"

"Seriously?"

"…shut it."

"Calm down, Hermione. So it was a bad date. Who cares?"

"I do!" She was now on her couch, beating the throw pillows.

"That's right. Let it out on your blue cushions. Really mature. And people think Harry and I should learn from you."

She stopped harassing the pillows and became sullen.

"Why can't I get a date, Ron? Someone nice. Smart! He doesn't have to be handsome. I mean, when we went out, I didn't care about that at all."

"Hey! Crossing the line, Hermione."

"Oh don't be silly," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean!"

"Listen to me. It's because men are stupid. They can't see what's good for them unless it's got breasts and or ass. That's why we like chicken so much."

"Are you saying I don't have enough breasts to show? Is that why I can't get a date Ron Weasley? Because my chest is small? And are you comparing women to chicken?!" She was heating up again.

"You're missing the fucking point woman! What I'm trying to say is, you shouldn't get pissed off just because it's been so long since you got some-"

"Ron…"

"Let me finish. Not just _any_ guy can handle you, let alone have you. You know it and we know it. Now stop whining and face it like a man!"

"Ugh. You are such a…pig! I do not want _some_. I am not looking for _some_! And don't call me 'woman'!"

She could hear him sigh on the other end of the line.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah."

"…So I'll see you at Harry's wedding?"

"Of course. Goodness, I can't believe he's getting married! See, you should take a leaf out of his book, Ron. He's keeping his pants on and being content with only one woman-"

"Bye Hermione!"

"Fine! Bye." And she snapped shut her phone.

Since ending it with Ron, Hermione hadn't had any luck with men in her life. Not that she needed it badly or anything. But sometimes, it was nice to know that someone else other than your cat made you feel special. Then again, her cat had the qualities that any man she'd ever been with lacked. Personal hygiene was one. Why the hell did she date them anyway?

It was a few more minutes until she got up and decided to call it a night. Taking off her clothes and slipping into a ratty shirt, she turned off the lights and went to bed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Draco, _

It's been so long since I've seen you. You haven't owled me at all, and I'm getting worried. I know we ended in a sour note but please, stop behaving like a child. No matter what happens--or in our case, happened--you know that our friendship means a lot more than that. Now quit being such a whiny bitch and reply. This is my sixth owl, damn it!

Love,

Pansy

He flicked his lighter and watched as the parchment crumpled and burned.

_Bitch_.

Nowadays, all Draco Malfoy did was hide in his apartment. Drink, smoke and then drink some more. There was the occasional showering but then sleeping usually overruled that. He couldn't even have a decent fuck anymore. _All thanks to her_, he thought bitterly. What Pansy did was unforgivable, in Draco's opinion. What they had was good. Granted, it was more for name preservation than anything else, but he actually thought of someone else rather than himself for a change. Then she went and fucked Potter when he was gone. _Potter_, of all people. That alone was enough to make Draco murderous. So no, he would not be owling her anytime soon. Unless she wanted her hands burned and Potter's manhood taken out, in which case he could arrange that.

It was two a.m. and he couldn't sleep. Again. He went to his bedside window and watched the city lights glimmer in the night. Surprising how muggles managed to have fun without magic. And even more surprising was how he was now okay with using their appliances. Well, he had no choice. His wand had been taken away from him when he was placed under house arrest by the ministry Aurors for suspected alliance with a group wanting to bring back Voldemort. As if he would. It was a stupid, rash and harsh decision done by the ministry. But they didn't want to take any chances, especially with the late Lucius Malfoy's son, who, some stubbornly believed, was still out there. By the time he had gotten his wand back, it was beyond repair. And now, he was either too lazy or too drunk to replace it.

He saw a young couple kissing under the stars and had to suppress the urge to curse them with his broken wand. Instead of directing his aggression towards the pair, he opened his drawer and took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He inhaled the smoke, savoring the bitter taste and the burning sensation being done to his throat. He'd started this habit back in third year when Marcus Flint smuggled some into the Slytherin common room. Wanting to look experienced, he had taken a deep drag and ended up in the infirmary. He didn't go back to smoking until sixth year, where he discovered that smoking relieved stress. And sixth year was one hell of a stress fest.

Finishing the stick, he flicked it casually towards the couple that was now whispering sweet nothings to each other.

"Hey, watch it!" The boy yelled, startled.

"Fuck off," Draco countered. At this point, he was ready to express pent up anger. He was half hoping for the boy to come up so he could bash his face. It was immature, but Draco obviously didn't care.

The teenager was about ready to go up when his girlfriend pulled on his jacket and dragged him in the other direction. They took one last look at Draco, disgusted.

"That went well." He ran a hand through his blond hair and let it fall back, covering his gray eyes. He braced the rail and took a deep breath. _Pull it together, Draco_, he told himself.

_Tomorrow_.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a Friday, the day office folks look forward to the most. Date night, Poker night, Free Entrance On Jovy's Angels night, whatever. The energy was contagious and people were in a good mood.

Except for one.

It looked like something straight out of a teen movie, with the groups sitting with their own kind in the food court. Only this time, it was office cubicles. The cool kids were the PRs. The busy students were the secretaries. The smart ones were the accountants. And the losers, well, loser actually, was the manager.

Guess who Hermione was.

Yep. She was _The_ Man. The one you want to stick it to. The one doomed enough to carry all the problems of the office universe and solve it before deadline. And while everyone was celebrating, Hermione was stuck in her office scowling. As the division manager of the Durden & Singer Wizard Accounting Firm, she had the unfortunate task of doing everything by herself. Stacks of papers and files covered most of her desk and her fresh flowers had long been dead. She could still remember the day she was told about her promotion. Elated but expectant were her reactions. Hermione worked hard. She knew she earned it and more. Back then she was too idealistic about being the perfect manager for her accountant group. Making sure that the desk and chair weren't too far apart, the sunlight was just right, and all her books in the Dewey Decimal System of arrangement. She even hired a florist to design her office. Oh to be naïve.

It was only three thirty in the afternoon but she was ready to bail. Sometimes, she had the secret fantasy of blasting all her paper-works with her wand, stealing a convertible and driving over the speed limit. Topless. But then she'd always stop that train of thought because 'it isn't sensible' and went back to reality.

Her secretary, a voluptuous twenty-three year old named Linda, peeked in to see if her boss was still sane. "Miss Granger, there's someone here to see you."

She stared at her secretary, as if saying 'do I have a choice?'

"Let them in Linda." She sighed and tried fixing herself up as fast as she could. She got caught up with taming her bushy hair when her guest came in.

"And I thought you were the most hardworking witch here. Instead, you're primping. I'm disappointed, Hermione."

Hermione didn't have to take a look to know who it was. She smiled and turned around. "Harry!" She dodged her desk and went to hug him. "What're you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd drop by before the rehearsal. You are coming, right?" He looked doubtful behind his round glasses.

"What," she smacked him on his arm, "if I don't, no one will stop you and Ron from making fools of yourselves. Of course I am!" She smiled as she saw Harry relax a bit.

"Did you and Pansy talk about the table arrangements? I told her to contact you. You know I'm hopeless with these kinds of things." He was fumbling with his shirt, twisting and untwisting it. He rolled his eyes at the afterthought, "As if the Dursleys would care enough to show up. But maybe Dudley will, seeing how he's being pressured into marrying these past few years. It would be a laugh if Aunt Petunia find-"

"Harry."

He looked up. "-Yeah?"

"You're babbling. Relax." She took a deep breath and plunged further. "You can still back out you know."

"Hermione," Harry's voice was clipped. "Fuck, we've been through this. I told you, I know what I'm doing. Everyone's been telling me to stop and think for a while and it's getting old." He took Hermione's hand and looked into her eyes. "Trust me in this."

It wasn't a plea but a command.

Hermione dropped her head and bit her lip. "Okay."

"Good." Harry let go of her hand and kissed her forehead. "So I'll see you later?"

"Mhm." She smiled and rested her head on his chest. "I'm going to miss you Har."

Harry smiled. "I'm not going anywhere, Hermione."

It was a long time before they changed positions, Harry standing still and Hermione's head on his chest.

"I..." he cleared his throat. "I've got to go pick up Pansy."

Hermione backed away and composed herself. "Yeah, okay. See you later."

"Yeah, you too!" Harry waved at her and left her alone.

She sat back down, cradled her head with both hands and groaned.

After debating internally whether to finish her work at the office or bring it home, she stood up and decided to do overtime on Monday. It was unusual of Hermione to do that, but this week was enough excuse for her to be very un-Hermione. Getting dumped on the first date and potentially losing one of the most important men in her life trumped work anytime.

And besides, office rumors had it that there was a new love triangle brewing among Linda, Jake and Carol. And honestly, Hermione couldn't be bothered playing Dr. Love just now.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco stepped out of his bathroom and dropped his tattered towel. It had been three days since his last shower and he ordinarily wouldn't have bothered, but today was special. Water dripping from his pale body, he walked around naked, searching for his razor. When he found it in his sock drawer, he positioned himself in front of his mirror and paused, examining himself closely for the first time in days. He looked like a hermit.

"My, don't we look good." He angled his chin just enough so he could aim the razor carefully without cutting his skin. "Damn," He winced. Blood slowly trickled from his jaw to his neck. He quickly searched for tissue paper but couldn't find any.

"Fuck!" He grabbed his towel on the floor and jammed it on his cut.

It was Friday and he still hadn't bought groceries. Or more accurately- gin, cigarettes and strawberry pop tarts. Then there was the occasional toothpaste, tissue paper and soap- but only if he felt like it.

He took a deep breath, threw the towel into a corner and finished shaving. Satisfied with his work, he smirked. Draco was oddly giddy about what he was going to do. He even did a little shimmy while walking towards his closet. Very odd.

His closet didn't hold much of anything. All he had were two pairs of jeans, a black leather jacket that he stole from someone he couldn't remember, and a few shirts. He marveled at the thought that before his so-called 'fall', this closet would never have had seen the light of day.

_Fuck,_ he thought, _I'm pathetic._ He shook his head and laughed harshly as he put on his jacket.

He was finally ready.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was falling. Or at least, that's what it looked like.

Hermione quickened her pace as she crossed the road towards the hotel. Fat raindrops were now splattering everywhere, drenching her red coat. She took a moment to look up to the sky. "Thank you," she said aloud, "for making my day _just_ perfect." And then she ran.

She pushed through the revolving door and headed for the front desk, panting.

"Excuse me," she said, still trying to catch her breath. "Can you point me in the direction of the Potter and Parkinson rehearsal dinner?"

The woman in the front desk sized her up and raised her eyebrow discreetly. "The Presidential Ballroom. Straight ahead, then turn left until you see two gold doors," she said flatly. "Or a mirror," whispered her co-worker snidely.

_Bitch._ Hermione heard the remark and counted one to five before replying a curt "Thank you." Then she walked away.

She was just too tired to deal with any drama today.

Before meeting up with the others, Hermione took a quick trip to the powder room. The woman in the front desk was right. She _did_ need a mirror.

Because of the rain, her hair was now a big ball of frizz. "Damn," she swore, trying to comb it but to no avail. "Please don't do this to me, hair," she pleaded. "You and I, we've been through so many things! Why," grunt. "Can't." grunt. " You just." Bigger grunt. "Cooperate!" She pushed with all her might and ended up breaking her comb. She squinted her eyes, curled her fists into balls and screamed. She wanted to throw a tantrum but that would've been a bit idiotic. She was in the middle of contemplating whether to cry or not to cry when the door opened.

"Granger?"

She swung around and saw a tall brunette with perfect hair and an even more perfect ass.

"Uh, hi," she sniffed. "I was just about to go in to the rehearsal but I got a bit sidetracked with the rain and all so I had to…"

Pansy Parkinson looked like she didn't care. And she probably didn't.

"You look like shit Granger. Fix yourself up before going in, will you? Wouldn't want to scare the kids."

Hermione was hurt. Here she was having one of the worst weeks of her life and now her best friend's fiancé was being a bitch. Not that that was new or anything, but still. Would it be so hard to cut her some slack today? If it was any other day, she could've handled it perfectly well.

She gave Pansy a contemptuous look and proceeded to tying her hair in a loose bun.

Pansy must've sensed that she irked Hermione more than normal.

"Look," she sighed. "I'm sorry I was being a bitch Granger-"

"Surprising."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "-_but_ it's only because of the stress of this wedding. God, is it so hard to have-"

"Do you love him?" Hermione cut in. She was now facing Pansy, her hair in a haphazard bun.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'do you love him?'" She pronounced each word carefully.

"I'm not deaf, Granger," Pansy replied, sounding annoyed. "I heard what you said perfectly."

"Answer the question, Parkinson."

It was a tense moment between the two most important women in Harry Potter's life.

Pansy took a deep breath before answering.

"Yes," she whispered, seeming to have a hard time saying it.

Hermione looked at her with hard eyes. Pansy crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

"You better see to it, Pansy." She swung open the door and left Pansy stunned.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hermione! You're not dead!" Ron bellowed from the other side of room, opening his arms. Harry was standing beside him, smiling at her with a knowing look in his eyes.

Despite her already ruined mood, Hermione had to hand it to Ron. He always could make her laugh. She missed him.

The ballroom was nothing short of grand. Plush red carpeted floor, chandeliers with dangling diamonds sparkling as they reflected the light, and statues that had long been alive before her or any of her friends were born.

Hermione walked over to where the boys were. "Yeah well, I'd make sure to haunt you if I was," she laughed. "But then again, I'm not sure I want to see what you're doing twenty-four seven, Ronald."

Ron clutched his chest. "You're mean," he pouted. "C'mere you!" He grabbed Hermione haphazardly and gave her a tight hug.

"Mffffmfuuug!"

"What? I can't hear you. Say that again," he taunted, still holding her. "Sonofabitch!"

Hermione had kneed him in the groin to make him release her. "I'm sorry, Ron," she gasped contritely. "A desperate woman does desperate things."

"Geez Hermione. If you wanted to do it so bad all you had to do was say so," he grinned. "You know I'm always happy to oblige."

"Harry, make him stop!"

Harry was standing on the side watching all the commotion. "Leave Hermione alone, Weasley. Or you'll have to face me."

"Oh yeah? Wouldn't want to foot the bill for a magical face restoration, Potter," Ron mocked. "You better back out while you still can."

"The only bill you'll be paying will be for yours." Harry made an exaggerated fight stance and provoked Ron.

Ron was about to charge when Hermione intervened. "Seriously! Grow up. Both of you!"

"Hermioneeeeeee…" Ron whined. "No wonder you have a hard time getting dates. You're so…bossy!"

"Like that's anything new," Harry added.

Hermione looked at him sharply. "What's anything new? Me not getting any dates? Because what Ron didn't tell you was that the man he set up with me? Was a moron! "

Harry snickered. "Woah, easy Hermione. What's this about Ron setting you up? Why didn't you tell me, Weasley?"

Hermione groaned and Ron held back a guffaw.

"Guess I forgot to mention it to you. The gist of the story is, your bestest pal-me, set up your bestest girl pal-Hermione, on a date with Mark."

"With Mark! What the hell. Why?"

Hermione looked sharply at Harry. "Wait- you know Mark?"

Harry turned his head to her side. "Hell yes. He's the village idiot at our Poker night. Way to go Ron, " he said sarcastically.

"I was just trying to help! I mean- he was lonely. Hermione was lone-"

"I am not lonely!"

Ron paused at the statement before replying. "Yeah right, Hermione. You're just bubbling over with joy whenever you go home and find a cat instead of a man sprawled on your bed."

Hermione bit her lip and kept quiet. _Maybe Ron's right,_ she wondered. _Maybe I'll be known as the cat lady when I hit my thirties…which is three years from now._ Her future didn't look so bright and happy today.

"Listen, Hermione, -all I'm trying to say is- it's not good for you to be spending so much time alone!"

"Since when did you become a psychologist, Ron?" Hermione was getting a bit annoyed. "And I'm not alone," she said softly. "I've got you and Harry."

Ron sighed and Harry looked away.

It just wasn't the same, unfortunately. They had different lives now. It wasn't Hogwarts anymore where they had the same schedule, knew about each other's plans and always went together. Sadly, the Forever part in Best Friends Forever didn't apply after graduation. Sure they were still close, still the same people. But it was hard having to face the reality that you're going to deal with life without the past assurance that two people will always be there.

Hermione couldn't bear to look at the expressions on her friends' faces. Why couldn't things still be the same? Why did Ron have to date so many women? Why was Harry getting married so soon? What happens when she found herself twenty years from now all alone?

"Okay, you know what," she broke the silence. "We should go and socialize with the others. I wouldn't want to see Harry's head on Pansy's wall tomorrow. Come on!"

She knew that Harry and Ron could see through her forced enthusiasm, but she didn't care. She needed to just get out of that conversation and fast.

Hermione had an ominous feeling that her day was far from over.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione stood in line, her feet aching for rest as they went over the march for the nth time. She was a bridesmaid, and she knew that if it wasn't for Harry, Pansy would never have had placed her there. For that small gesture, she grudgingly appreciated Pansy for considering Harry's friends. Maybe Pansy wasn't as bad as people thought she was.

"All right people, we don't have all day! Let's march and pronto on that!" Roberto the wedding planner was getting on Hermione's nerves. His voice was loud and so was his orange silk shirt.

Her partner was Neville, who cringed at Roberto's voice.

"You," the wedding planner pointed at Hermione. "You should smile more often. This is not a funeral, this is a wedding!" He walked over to her and placed his index finger and thumb on the sides of Hermione's mouth and forced her to show some teeth. She caught Ron laughing. Harry gave her a pitiful look.

"Okay, okay! I'm smiling." If there was one thing Hermione liked about herself physically, it was her smile. She was raised by dentists for crying out loud. She gave Roberto her biggest smile, and then scowled when he walked away. Neville patted her arm.

She sighed. The things she did for Harry.

"Are we ready? Yes, I think we are," Roberto clapped his hands swiftly. "On five everyone!"

He counted down, and as soon as he hit zero, music started playing.

When it was Neville and Hermione's turn to walk down the aisle, Roberto gave her a look that said 'smile or I will have to use pliers to make you'. And smile she did. She smiled so bad that it hurt. She would've cried too but thought that it would have been a tad bit awkward to look at. Imagine, Pansy Parkinson's bridesmaid, bawling at the rehearsal dinner and unable to stop because of forced smiling.

Everyone except for the bride was now in position. It was Pansy's turn.

When she entered the room, all forms of maliciousness were gone. Pansy looked beautiful, if Hermione had to say so. And happy. Pansy actually looked _happy_. Hermione turned her head over to Harry. He was quiet, but his eyes were intense as he and Pansy held their gaze at each other. He was sure.

Who would've thought? Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson. Two different worlds. But here they were now, getting married as if it was the right thing to do all along. And maybe it was.

"Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful, darling!" Roberto was gushing as Pansy took her position beside Harry. "And I think it's a wrap! Dinner, anyone?"

Finally.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Fucking rain!"

Draco Malfoy was soaking wet. And despite his attempts to use his jacket as an umbrella, he was still drenched. He stood across the street from the hotel, his gray eyes dark as he looked at the building.

He thought of running towards the hotel but then decided on walking because hell, he was soaked already.

Draco looked strange amongst the other passers-by who were actually trying not to get wet. He walked with his hands in his pockets and his head down. A man with nothing to lose.

He finally got through the revolving door, dripping badly as he went, leaving puddles in his wake. His white shirt clung to his body and water ran in rivulets from his hair. He pushed his hair back from his eyes and headed to the front desk.

"Excuse me," he cleared his throat. "Can you point me-"

"One moment, sir." The woman was on the phone giggling about something.

Draco's eyes narrowed. He didn't have time for this.

He grabbed the phone and slammed it down. The woman, whose name tag read Susan, was about to cry out when he gripped her wrist.

"Now normally I'm not this unpleasant-" he looked at her nameplate. "Susan. But due to unforeseen circumstances I really need to know where the Potter and Parkinson wedding is." Draco sounded dangerously sweet.

He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered. "So if you could please just point me to their direction I would happily release you and you could go on with your fucking chitchat about Alfonse and his tight ass."

Susan gaped wordlessly at him and pointed.

"Thank you Susan," he released his grip and beamed at her. "Have a nice day."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner was a blur. Hermione sat alone at their table as Ron mingled and Harry and Pansy did their jobs as hosts of the party. Neville offered to keep her company but she told him he wouldn't enjoy it very much. He got the message and went to the buffet table. She crossed her arms, breathed deeply and closed her eyes. She imagined a hot bath waiting for her in her apartment, therapeutic candles lit, and soft music. And then maybe afterwards she could read a good boo- Why was it so quiet?

She opened her eyes and heard a gasp followed by the sound of glass hitting the floor.

Was that Draco Malfoy?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco stood in front of the Presidential Ballroom door, clenching and unclenching his fists. It was now or never.

He pushed the gold doors open and was greeted by the sight of happy, cheery, dreadfully smiling people. What. The. Fuck.

As soon as he entered, silence settled the room. He spotted Granger opening her eyes in shock. That made him smirk. Wasn't often someone got to shake up the insufferably superior Granger.

He didn't spot Pansy at first but the crash of crystal drew his attention to her. He strode over to where Pansy and Potter were, all the while acting as if nothing was wrong.

"Congratulations to the happy couple," he drawled.

"What-what are you doing here Draco?" Pansy managed to sputter. She was now looking back and forth between Draco and Harry.

"Surprised to see me, Pans? I thought you said you missed me." He attempted to give Pansy a kiss on the cheek when Potter blocked him.

"Hey, Potter! How's it going? Enjoying it with dear old Pansy? I'm quite sure you are." He winked at Harry, smiling cheekily.

By this time the crowd watched agape, some eager for fistfights while others coughed awkwardly.

"Draco, just…get out of here," Pansy said lowly. "We'll talk later." She took his arm and led him to the side.

Draco pulled his arm away and looked at her viciously.

"Don't you fucking touch me you little bitch," he hissed. Pansy's eyes widened and hurt registered in her eyes, but only for a moment. She quickly replaced it with anger.

Harry was about to grab Draco when Pansy stopped him.

"I got this, Harry," she said darkly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Potter. I'm _sure_."

"Do you really want to make a scene, Draco?" Pansy's voice dripped with venom.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Pans. You always managed to make one even when we're all alone what with your constant screeching…and moaning," Draco leered.

"The only reason why I did that was so you wouldn't get your precious ego hurt. Don't congratulate yourself on a job well done, _Draco_." She smiled sweetly.

"Fuck you."

"You did, and it wasn't all that great to tell you honestly."

Draco could hear someone snorting somewhere in the back. He turned around and saw Weasley covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

"So you wanted to take a break, huh? Think things over. And the next thing I knew, you were running around fucking Potter." He looked at Harry. "Tell me, was she loud?"

The next thing Draco saw was the ground. He thought he heard Granger scream Potter's name but he wasn't sure. All he could hear was the buzzing in his ear.

"Son of a bitch!" He stood up and wiped his bloody mouth with his thumb. "Typical Potter," he sneered. "Always saving people."

"Get out of here now, Malfoy. I mean it." Harry was stiff, all previous politeness gone.

"All right, all right," he raised his hands. "I'm gone. Just one more thing." He rested his gaze on Pansy. "Give me my money back, you bitch."

Pansy opened her mouth incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me, Draco? You don't _have_ any money! Is that why you think I stayed with you? Oh my god. You- ugh!" She looked up and sighed exasperatedly.

"Whatever, Parkinson. Just owl me back my black t-shirt, then. That's all I'm asking."

"Fine! Are you done?"

"Yes," he jeered. He turned to the crowd and bowed. "Thank you very much for your presence," He grabbed both Pansy's and Harry's arms and raised them high. "Long live the soon to be newly weds!"

And then he left.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione could not believe it. Did Malfoy just enter the room and cause a scene?

Seriously?

She went over to where Harry was standing, still floored.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Hermione. Don't worry about it."

"Let me see your hand," she took Harry's fist and examined it closely. "It looks a little sore, Har."

Ron walked over looking very pleased. "Holy shit! That was fucking fantastic, what you did. Pity I wasn't able to get a shot at Malfoy though."

"Shut up, Weasley." Pansy was looking mightily pissed off. "It was not 'fucking fantasic'. The idiot ruined my party."

"Uh…sorry Pans. But you've got to admit, our boy Harry here did us proud!" Ron draped an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Way to go."

Harry looked at Ron and grinned. "He had it coming."

Hermione sighed loudly. "You could've hurt yourself Harry. Malfoy looked like someone ready to kill. He could've easily done so!"

"Hermione," Ron turned his attention towards her. "Malfoy doesn't stand a chance against Harry. He never did. Now stop worrying and be proud!"

She shook her head. "Fine. But that was still stupid." Hermione felt like it was time to get out of this party. Still feeling melancholic, she wanted to be alone for now. "Anyway," she looked at her watch. "I've got to get going. Lots of reports to finish."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Noooo Hermione. The night is still young!"

"Sadly, my boss isn't. He's going to have a heart attack if I don't submit this by Monday."

"Oh alright," Ron sighed. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks." She smiled and kissed Ron on the cheeks.

She turned to Harry and Pansy. "I'm heading off, okay? Thanks for the erm…definitely interesting party."

"Don't be late tomorrow, Granger," Pansy quipped. That was her way of saying goodbye, Hermione guessed.

Hermione faced Harry. She took a deep breath and fixed his shirt. "So…last night of being single. It's been fun, Potter." She grinned.

Harry looked at her for a long time. The next thing she knew she was in a bone-crushing hug.

"Hey wait for me," Ron shouted. He joined the two and sandwiched Hermione between him and Harry.

"I love you guys," Hermione muffled.

"We know," both of them said at once.

Hermione laughed and broke off. "Okay so. I'm off now."

"Bye Hermione," Ron said, smacking her behind along the way.

"Hey!"

"Love you." Ron smiled cheekily.

"Yeah, love you too." She waved at them then headed towards the door.

She couldn't wait to get home.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco was hunched over the bar, a glass half empty in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself.

"Tough day?"

He looked up and was surprised to see a woman tending the bar.

"Wazyername?" he slurred.

"Heleen," the woman said. "My uncle owns this bar and I manage it for him." She took out glasses and started wiping them. "Your turn."

"What?"

"What's your name?"

"Oh. Draco."

"Sounds fancy,' she whistled. "So what's a fancy-named man like you doing in a..." she looked around. "Bar like this? And there isn't even a lot of customers because of the rain, so no excuses."

Draco declined answering and instead gave his glass to her. "Fill it up."

Heleen rolled her eyes. "Fair enough. Customers here never talk to me unless they want me to do something else." She leaned closer to Draco. "And I never do."

"Nice rack."

"Thanks," she smirked. She took his glass and poured him a drink. "Looks like you won't be very lonely tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"Turn around."

He did. He saw hair.

"Granger?"

"Oh, so you know her? Perhaps doing a little rendezvous?" She winked.

"If you know what-"

"Don't worry," she cut in. "My lips are sealed." She pretended to zip it with her fingers.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away.

Well, well, well. Hermione Granger was here. And she was heading right at him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione hurriedly went inside the bar to avoid getting wet any further. The rain, which stopped for a couple of hours, came back in full force and caught her in the middle of the road. She went into the first establishment she saw and now here she was.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" She took off her coat and shook it. "I knew I should've taken Ron up on his offer," she muttered.

Hermione looked around and observed that the bar was quite old. The paint was peeling and the lights were near dying. The neon sign, which said "FREE DRINK", now read "FE DIN" and was flickering. The jukebox had to be hit several times for it to work. Right now it was playing a muffled tune. The place smelled like old leather and sweat. Nice.

Only a few customers were present that night. She could see someone hunched over at the bar, talking to an attractive bartender. She decided to head over there to order a drink.

She placed her purse on the table and took a seat one space apart the man. He was strangely familiar.

"What will it be?" The bartender greeted her with a bright smile.

"Uh, hi. Yeah, I think I'll have…" Hermione didn't drink that much, which meant she had little to no knowledge with alcoholic beverages.

"She'll have beer," the stranger answered.

Hermione turned her head swiftly and fixed her gaze at the man. She peered closer. Pale and blond.

"Malfoy?!"

"Surprise, Granger."

Hermione could finally conclude that her day was complete and utter shit.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?"

"What do you think?" He turned and spoke to Heleen. "And they say she's the smartest girl in our batch."

The bartender chuckled and gave Hermione her beer.

"No thank you," she declined. "I won't have any."

"Are you scared you'd ruin your prissy reputation by getting drunk, Granger?"

"Haven't you had enough humiliation for the night, Malfoy?" she grabbed her purse and stood up.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her then stood up as well. "I was just offering you a drink, Granger. If you could take that stick out of your ass even for just one night then maybe you'd get laid."

Heleen the bartender gasped. Realizing she was a bit obvious, she returned to wiping glasses.

Hermione could feel white-hot anger coursing through her. "Go kill yourself, Malfoy."

"You first, _Hermione_."

"Fuck you."

"Anytime, any place, Granger. Lord knows you need it." He looked her up and down. "And I think you'll do for now."

It was the second time that night that Draco Malfoy got hit. Hermione's fist throbbed from the impact, but the satisfaction that filled her was stronger.

"Hey, no fighting!" The bartender reprimanded her. "At least, not in here. You could kick his ass outside though."

"Thanks," Hermione heaved. "And I'm so sorry for the mess." She swiftly dodged chairs and went out.

That felt good.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no way Draco was going to let her get away with it. Taking out money from his wallet, he slammed it down the bar to pay the bartender then chased after Granger.

"So I guess I'll keep the change then?" The bartender was greeted with the door slamming. "Okay."

It was a downpour outside. Draco could hardly see where he was going but he kept on. He saw a figure ahead and chased it.

"Hey Granger!"

"Leave me alone you ass!"

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" He ran towards her.

"I said 'leave me alone!'"

He caught up with her and grabbed her arm roughly. He saw Hermione wince with pain. Good. He leaned forward and whispered menacingly. "Hit me again Granger, and I will make sure you won't see your precious Potter and Weasley again."

She shoved him hard and continued walking. "I'm not afraid of you Malfoy! You're pathetic!"

They were soaked to the bone. But neither looked like they cared.

"Then what are you afraid of, Granger? Afraid you'll die all alone while Potter and Weasley get to be happy with their lives? I see it in your eyes. You don't want them to move on."

She stopped and turned around to look at him.

"I _hate_ you."

"Like I care, Granger."

Draco was pretty sure he was going to get hit again. Hermione looked ready to kill.

They stood still, looking hard in each other's eyes and panting for air.

"Fuck it."

Draco grabbed Hermione abruptly and kissed her hard on the mouth.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It didn't take long for Hermione to respond. At first she tried to shove Draco, but that only made him pull her closer. Soon her hands were on the back of his head, eager for him to go deep. She bit his lip hard and slipped her tongue in first. Her anger and frustration became obvious in the harsh and needy manner she kissed him. It was urgent, maybe even desperate.

What the hell just happened? A while ago she was all about hating him and now she was tonguing him. Was she out of her mind? Probably. Being single for a long time made you do stupid things, apparently.

Draco's right hand was now in her hair, pulling it away from her face. His other hand was encircled around her waist, making it hard for her to go anywhere. She suddenly stopped and looked down.

"Granger," he whispered lowly. "Don't think." He resumed assailing her mouth and was greeted with no protest.

The cold of the weather had no effect Hermione as she felt her skin burn at the slightest touch.

"Malfoy," she managed to say between kisses. "Let's go somewhere-" she gasped. Draco bit her neckline teasingly. "drier."

All Draco could do was grunt in response.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was record time how they shed off their clothes so quickly in Hermione's apartment. They nearly didn't make it to her bedroom but Hermione was adamant about not staining her couch. Their garments trailed, a jacket over the lamp, a bra on the chair. Hermione was going to have a field day cleaning it up.

She didn't want to open her eyes. She knew exactly what she had done and _she did not want to open her eyes_.

"Morning."

Too late. She slowly peered through her lashes and saw a grinning Malfoy.

"Oh god no." She buried herself under the covers.

"Oh god yes, Granger," he teased. "And as I recall, it was a lot of yeses."

"Shut up!" She felt him get up, so she took a peek and instantly regretted it.

Malfoy was naked.

"Oh like you haven't seen them." His back was on her and he was looking for something. "Do you have toothpaste?"

She sat up, her eyes still closed. "Uh…check behind the mirror…in the bathroom…" She opened her eyes.

"Granger." Malfoy was in her face. Literally.

She shoved him- he fell to the floor, legs tangled in the blanket.

"I still hate you Malfoy. It doesn't change anything. Now go get changed and get out."

"You are so harsh. I like it."

"I'm serious. Thank you. It was fun while it lasted but now-" she looked at the clock. "But now I'm going to be late for the wedding, and I still haven't fixed up."

Was it just her or did Malfoy look a little disappointed? "Fine. Thanks for the fuck, Granger. I'll call you sometime." He picked up his clothes and started changing.

"Don't bother," she said tiredly.

He slammed the door on his way out.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything looked perfect. It was an outdoor wedding and traces of the previous weather were gone entirely. The rain had finally stopped being angry. The sun was shining and the wind was kind. The bride and groom were happy, the guests were happy, hell, even the waiters were happy.

So why was she so miserable?

"Come and dance with me, Hermione," Ron sing-songed. He pulled her to her feet and started to sway her. Her gown, which was royal blue, had a train which made it hard for her to move freely.

"Ron, you're stepping on my gown."

"Hey, you sound like you have a cold coming. Are you feeling fine?"

A light bulb went on in her brain. If she didn't feel well, that meant she could go home. And home meant no happy, cheery, sickenly sweet people.

"Actually, no. I think I need to go home." She hated lying to Ron but every once in a while, she needed to use her Sick card to get away.

Ron frowned. "Now normally I won't let you go, but I know something's bothering you and you're not telling me so I'll pretend you really are sick and let you go."

She couldn't pull it past Ron. "Thanks." She hugged him briefly then went to collect her things.

As she walked away from the party, the cool wind brushed past her. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. It was refreshing.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Going home so early?"

She opened her eyes and saw Malfoy leaning against a wall. He took a drag from his cigarette then rested his gaze on her. "You look good." He was probably spying on the wedding from afar.

"You're like the plague, Malfoy. Get away." Her voice lacked the loathing from the night before.

"I will. As soon as you mean what you say." He threw his cigarette down and walked beside her.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Which was?"

"Why are you going home so early?"

"If I answer, will you promise to go away?"

"Cross my heart."

"And hope to die?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't want to die just yet."

"Fair enough." She took a deep breath. "I'm going home early because…" Was she really going to tell him? "Because I can't stand happy people just now."

He nodded.

"What, no snide remark? No scathing insult?"

"No, Granger. And because I am a man of my word-"

Hermione scoffed.

"-I will leave. That's the deal, remember?" He bowed his head. "Farewell."

She watched him walk away.

_Well, what's it going to be Hermione?_

"Hey!" She ran towards him awkwardly, what with her train and all. "Hey Malfoy, wait up!"

He risked a glance and saw Hermione nearing.

"What is it now?"

"I was wondering," she panted. "If you'd like…if you know, as friends, you'd like to…" She looked at everything except at him.

He smirked. "Spit it out. I haven't got all day."

She shot him a dirty look. She braced herself and asked away. "Do you…want to get out of here, Malfoy?" She coughed nervously and pointed towards the party, where music and laughter were drifting.

Draco cocked his head to the side and grinned.

"I thought you'd never ask, Granger."

**-End-**

**Final Notes:**

Part of the dialogue I took from the song, so don't be surprised. Ben Folds, I owe you big time. AAAND! Thank you for taking the time to read this. Reviews are much appreciated. :)


End file.
